The Rose of Highgarden
by Lucky love12
Summary: Sansa Stark meets and becomes friends with Margaery Tyrell but will it last? Can Sansa survive King Joffrey's inflictions? How far will Margaery go to appease Joffrey to bring honor to High Garden and become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? Perhaps, just perhaps the Rose of Highgarden can change everything. AU
1. Chapter 1

"And when a Tyrell farts it smells like a rose." Lady Olenna spoke, her hands clasped together and despite the older woman speaking so freely and openly Sansa couldn't help but feel her own speech quivering as she bowed her head in silence.

It was unsettling. Speaking about Joffrey in such a casual manner had Sansa nervous and for good reason. For so long her hatred of Joffrey had been trapped and confined inside her own mind, her thoughts consumed by bitter hatred and fear.

How could she possibly tell Lady Olenna and Margaery the truth about the their King.. He had his men humiliate her, had her brutalized and beaten for his own sick pleasure. Did they want to know how he had taken her to the top of the castle and forced her to stare at the once handsome and joy filled man she called father. Her father who had been left a lifeless head sitting upon a spike, rotting out in the open for all of King's Landing to view until the birds took what they desired from his festering wounds. To this day the memory haunted her dreams and made her reality a living nightmare... On the rare occasion she could still feel the sting of the slap upon her cheek, but once seeing the lack of swelling and redness she was once again reminded that it happened long ago.

"But how kind is he? How clever? Has he a good heart? A gentle hand?" Lady Olenna continued, her words soft but genuinely curious, yet at the same time Sansa felt as if she were being pushed and prodded.

They simply had to have heard stories from High Garden, Joffrey's actions and casualities were no secret. Her father's face appeared in her mind leaving Sansa to take a deep breath, her eyes now darting from one woman to the other. She had a choice and each with consequences should she continue to tell a lie or spill the truth? Would they really believe her if she preached how their King was incredibly intelligent, that his heart so large that his chest could barely contain it, that he would never lay a hand on Margaery. Those would be horrendous lies. She would be painting a picture of Joffrey as a man of sweet kind nature that would never truly exist.

"I'm to be his wife, I only want to know what that means." Margaery added lightly, her large brown eyes looking to Sansa's and breaking the red head's thoughts.

Margaery was seeking out answers about her betrothed as she should but Sansa could only stare in return. Her lips were slightly ajar in an attempt to find words but her throat felt like bundled up cotton, her tongue almost swollen and it was a struggle to swallow.

Quick paced steps rushed to their table, giving Sansa a moment to collect what was remaining of her thoughts as Olenna asked the boy for cheese. Hearing the exchange of murmurs Sansa glanced over to Margaery. The brunette took took notice of Sansa's gaze and gave her a comforting smile. After a few moments the boy rushed off, leaving the three women alone once more and with this Sansa reached for her cup, raising it and taking a swallow of sweet tea to clear the dryness and nervousness in her throat.

"Are you frightened child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell us the truth. No harm will come to you."

"My father always told the truth." Sansa admitted, trying to force the image of her father's lifeless face from her mind.

"Yes, he had that reputation, and they named him traitor and took his head."

Sansa could feel a fire unleashed, her anger bubbling over. Before she knew it the words just fell from her lips.

"Joffrey… Joffrey did that. He promised he would be merciful and he cut my father's head off and he said that was mercy. And he took me up to on the walls and made me look at it." Sansa finally answered, her voice thick with emotion and her once bright piercing green eyes were now dull, filling with tears with each word.

"Go on." Margaery encouraged Sansa, her tone not as firm as her grandmothers but it wasn't enough to stall the her quickening thoughts of regret from stirring in her head.

Sansa wanted to slap herself, again and again. Why was she admitting this? If Joffrey found out…

"I-I-I can't-I never mean't…My father was a traitor, my brother as well, I-I have traitors blood. Please don't make me say anymore."

"She's terrified grandmother, just look at her." Margaery spoke, her voice soft and sympathetic.

"Speak freely child, we would never betray your confidence. I swear it." Olenna assured.

"He's a monster…"

"Huh… That's a pity." Lady Olenna sighed, glancing to her granddaughter who raised her delicate eyebrows for a moment before slipping a bit of crumbly sweetbread between her lips, her expression unreadable.

Why weren't the two more shocked at hearing this news? Margaery's husband, the king of the Seven Kingdoms was a cold blooded monster who took pleasure at the pain and suffering of others. Surely Margaery would not have interest perusing after acknowledging this. This couldn't affect Sansa, what would happen if the wedding were to be disrupted, or cancelled?

She had revealed far too much.

"Please don't stop the wedding." Sansa begged, her tears threatening to spill at any given moment.

"Have no fear, the lord oaf of Highgarden is determined that Margaery should be Queen. Even so we thank you for the truth." Olenna spoke, unobservant of her granddaughters smile, yet the same as earlier there was something strange about it. It wasn't a pleased smile.

"Aah, here comes my cheese."

* * *

Walking from soft hushed voices of Olenna's handmaidens Sansa stepped down the stone path, ignoring the lingering stares by a couple on a bench and the watchful gaurds she turned down a separate pathway, unknowing of the follower behind her and the quiet steps behind her. The young woman soon found herself surrounded by hedges, a graceful stone fountain, two benches and a calming silence. Sansa felt the familiar heat of her tears, rising and trickling down her cool porcelain cheeks.

Every day she thought of her father's death. **Every. Single. Day.**

She could once remember thinking that Joffrey would show a king's mercy. He would allow her father to confess his crime and live. Why did he feel the need to kill her father? Was he that empty, without a soul or heart?

Joffrey's mother was protective of her son but had that contributed into his downfall? Maybe it was from his father Robert having spent more time hunting and drinking his fill of ale and wine instead of giving his son council. Thinking back Sansa could even once thinking that Cersei would be her mother in law. It's almost funny thinking about it now, how Cersei had once asked for Sansa to sew her a beautiful dress to wear. Now all Sansa wished to do was tie her into that dress oh so tightly. She would draw the strings tighter and tighter until Cersei couldn't breath and her face turned red and blue, until she would take her final breath. Maybe then Joffrey would feel the same pain that she did when he had killed her father.

Sansa just stared at the fountain, watching the water sparkle and ripple as a tear fell from her chin into the water.

"Sansa?"

Turning abruptly Sansa's green eyes widened as she found herself staring at a concerned looking Margaery. "I-I'm sorry, I must look so foolish." Sansa apologized breathlessly, turning and brushing away her tears with the back of her hand.

"I came to apologize… I can't imagine how difficult times have been for you, and your father…" Margaery paused, her eyes showing sadness. "I am so sorry. I can't imagine what you've gone through." Her gaze lowered for several quiet moments. "

Slowly the thick haired brunette stepped forward, causing Sansa to turn.

The redhead suddenly felt so vulnerable, her eyes puffy and bloodshot but even in the silence Sansa felt comfortable, at least more comfortable than their chat only several minutes earlier.

"Please know It was not our intention to cause you any harm." She apologized, her eyes finding Sansa's before continuing, "I had thought you would tell me the truth… And you did." Margaery gave Sansa a soft smile, her eyes twinkling. "Thank you Sansa. I know the circumstances seem so strange but If I can help you in any way please come to me."

It was a small sentiment, but none the less an appreciated one. In a short Margaery would be the Queen and did not owe Sansa any favors. It was a rarity for Sansa to have someone treating her with true kindness, or at least to do so without motive. What would Margaery have to gain by speaking with her now?

"Is getting me as far away from King's Landing as possible out of question?" Sansa asked with a weak attempt of a smile and Margaery chuckled at her joke, returning with her own bright smile.

"I was thinking more along the lines of braiding your hair or getting advice on your dress…" Margaery replied with playful smile and Sansa laughed … For the first time in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

"Up girl!" Came a voice, causing Sansa to bury her head deep into her pillow in a silent refusal. Suddenly she felt fabric brush down her shoulders, along her back and finally past her ankles in one swift movement. Reaching for her blankets Sansa realized they were no longer there.

"Shae!" Sansa called out as she sat up, her lips drawn in a tight hard line with ordinarily soft blue eyes burning in golden embers.

The older woman held the thick blanket in a bundle underneath her arm as she stood at the end of Sansa's bed, an amused smile resting on her face.

"I am not letting you waste the day." She spoke commonly, brushing back raven curls from her slim shoulders, "but what I will let you do is to get up, eat and do something besides sulk and pout in bed." She commanded firmly.

"Remember that I am the lady. I give the orders, not you." Sansa retorted fiercely, but only a moment later she couldn't suppress her cheeks stretching into a smile and the playful anger boil down to soft laughter. Sleeping was the least of her worries.

"Even a '_lady_' needs to get out of bed in the morning." Shae dismissed with a smirk as she held out her hands to Sansa. "Now, get up."

It was unheard of to be spoken to by a handmaiden in such a manner but unlike most Sansa knew Shae had a good heart and cared for her. They had become good friends in such a short time and at times Sansa felt that Shae was the only one who truly cared for her in Kingslanding, a protector and someone she could trust, a rarity for Sansa here.

Shae was honest, kind, and incredibly wise and during these dark times Shae was what Sansa needed.

During the day when Sansa was lonely Shae would bring tea and a few small treats. Sometimes they would chat while Sansa worked on her sewing and Shae tidied the room, typically speaking of gossip or interesting stories Shae had picked up on from other handmaidens. What Shae would hear or see became what Sansa looked forward to these days, the stories she would tell reminded her of being just a young foolish girl back in Winterfell. Her favorite had been when Shae told Sansa how she had been walking by the courtyard and King Joffrey was being trained with the sword, himself and another man who was both tall but extraordinarily agile. Joffrey had been outmaneuvered and as a result fell flat on his face over the hard ground, screaming out much like a stuck pig.

Shae chuckled when telling Sansa, trying to speak softly whilst wiping tears from her eyes, "If he wasn't the King the guards surely would have been doubled over in tears." That had brought a wicked grin to Sansa's face.

Her other friend in Kingslanding was Littlefinger, Peter. He had known her mother long ago and from her knowledge she had trusted him wholeheartedly but something did seem odd when they would speak. Occasionally she would turn and catch him staring at her with such a yearning in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking, or how his hand would linger on hers a moment too long, surpassing a typical friendly gesture. Only days before Shae and Sansa had confided in Shae about her thoughts of Peter and despite Sansa telling Shae how he couldn't possibly be in love with her Shae insisted that love wasn't what he was wanting. While this somewhat distressed her she had to trust him, he had been kind to her when others hadn't and one day could help her escape, for the moment being that was enough.

Sansa climbed out of the bed with Shae's help. Her braid had come undone during the night and left her long hair disheveled. The young redhead pressed her hands to her eyes, attempting to rub what was left of sleep out of them as Shae poured water from the basin in the corner of the room into a jug.

Already on the table was a plate holding a generous cut of bread, cheese, a pile of grapes and a filled cup of warm tea next to it. The young woman reached out for a grape.

"Not yet." Shae protested as she brought the jug to the table, pouring the water into a large bowl. "You must wash up before you eat."

Sansa nodded, waiting until Shae turned her back she popped the single grape into her mouth before beginning to undress herself.

"I saw that." Shae chuckled with a shake of her head.

* * *

Sansa chewed on her bottom lip, a habit she had picked up on many years ago. Septa Mordane had never approved of it and with many attempts she tried to break Sansa of the nasty habit and Arya with her many unladylike quirks... but she remembered Arya had been particularly stubborn, a force to be reckoned with, at least that's what Mordane jested often.

The old woman had been a teacher, showing Sansa many things as a child, including sewing, embroidery, singing and everything else she could to make sure that the two Stark girls were to become perfect little ladies. Neither Sansa or Arya could carry much of a tune but Mordane let them find their own pleasures and refine them.

Arya didn't have an interest in many typical ladylike pursuits, what Arya would call 'Stupidly girly' but at times she did enjoy stitching patterns of swords and wolves to Mordane's dismay. The sisters hadn't always gotten along or had much in common but Sansa missed the comedic little arguments they would get themselves into. Then there were the ones Mordane had to step in for and she would say: "Do not waste time on petty fights with the ones you hold dear."

Thinking about Septa Mordane caused a lump to rise in Sansa's throat, a threat of tears to follow. She had not treated the woman as kindly as she deserved and in the end Mordane still protected her fiercely. She had given her life so that Sansa might have a chance to live on and grow. She had taught, guided and protected Sansa for years, until the bitter end… And in exchange she ended up with with her head on a spike.

"Ouch!" Sansa cried out, raising her finger she saw a drop of blood oozing from her fingertip. Bringing the finger to her lips she sucked on the flesh for a moment before continuing her work, careful not to let her blood make a mess on the dress.

She wasn't able to use the finer fabrics as she was once before. Cersei and Joffrey made sure they squandered any source of happiness that Sansa was able to find, even if that meant a single piece of fine silk .Even so Sansa managed to put the dress together and perfect the embroidery. Most of her time was spent on this habit, she didn't have many other commitments.

The dress was finished. Standing up Sansa grasped the dress, raising it from the table and she stepped in front of the mirror in her room, pressing the soft purple material against her figure. The dress was a thicker material with long sleeves that would drape down. Ever since Stannis Baratheon's men had attacked Sansa hadn't quite felt comfortable wearing her once more flattering gowns. It was too difficult to see the eyes of men staring at her, catching her eyes only knowing that she was unable to pursue much further.

Margaery Tyrell, the name just came to her thoughts. It was unimaginable how many men would eagerly take up arms just for a chance of a word with her. Unfortunately for them she was constantly surrounded by her flock of handmaidens and friends who kept her company which left most men appreciating from afar. Even with the flock dispersed Sansa knew that no man would actually speak to her for soon enough she would be Queen and King Joffrey was their King. If they had heard anything of Joffrey's reputation they would be wise to keep their distance, at least if they were comfortable with their head resting on their shoulders.

"Shae!" Sansa called out, setting down the dress momentarily to untie her robe, exposing her soft curves underneath.

Only moments later Shae came from the balcony.

"Yes, _my lady_?" Shae acknowledged, raising an eyebrow as she stepped behind the young girl.

Sansa reached for her bodice and dress, pressing the bodice to her chest "Could you…?" Sansa asked, looking over her bare shoulder to Shae.

* * *

Sansa stared out longingly, watching as couples walked by arm in arm down the garden walkways, sometimes sharing a chaste kiss that had the young woman furious with envy.

Loras's face sparked into her mind and when he had escorted her to see his grandmother and sister. He had looked so incredibly handsome that day, everytime she had seen him actually. Loras had such lovely hair, it would tickle her fingers as she ran her fingers through the curls she was sure. Loras stood tall and strong but she could picture his arm around her in a gentle embrace as they strolled through Highgarden. He would give her a rose just like he had before and whisper sweet words into her ear.

The thought made Sansa giggle but after a moment she felt sadness. It was only a dream, something she could want but never have.

"Hello Sansa." Broke in a soft yet familiar voice, causing Sansa to gasp aloud.

Turning her head Sansa could see the pleased smile on Margaery's face

"Oh, Lady Margaery, you startled me." Sansa breathed, her stepping momentarily coming to a stop. Her surprised expression softened into a smile with her cheeks still burning in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Margaery apologized with a sincere smile. "I truly didn't mean to frighten you"

She chuckled as she stepped forward, pressing a hand gently on against Sansa's arm. "And please, just Margaery."

Sansa returned her smile, enjoying the light contact from the other girl. Despite the fabric she could feel the heat of Margaery's skin.

"How was your morning?" Margaery asked softly, continuing to walk down the path with Sansa in arm as she gave a kind smile to each passerby.

Sansa was regaining her composure, or what remained of the little she had. Margaery was so lucky, having such an easy confidence about her, a graceful stride and a presence that made others long to be around her. These were things that Sansa lacked but very much admired.

Sansa realized she hadn't answered Margaery's question.

"I spent most of my morning working on my dress." Sansa replied with a smile, letting her hand drift to her stomach, tracing over the thin material.

Margaery smiled approvingly, running her fingers over the ridges lining the material on her sleeve. "It is beautifully made." She complimented. "Such talent."

Sansa couldn't look Margaery in the eye, feeling her cheeks burn up once again. It was foolish to be so happy about a simple compliment but she couldn't help but feel genuinely pleased.

The pair walked, falling into a comfortable silence as the sun began to dim. Soon enough the sun would be replaced by pitch blackness and the bright shining moon and twinkling stars.

"Let's watch the sunset." Margaery suggested, leading the girls down the stone path until they found a terrace with an empty bench. The two sat together overlooking the Blackwater Bay.

She was undeniably gorgeous, Sansa thought as they sat alone so close. Sansa could feel her gaze drawing back to the girl sitting beside her. She let her eyes appreciate the finer details that she hadn't before; Margaery's almond shaped eyes which were a rich chocolate color that seemed to sparkle whenever she would smile; the shy but warm smile that had become familiar and comforting, a welcomed change; and her blue and gold embroidered dress with a plunging neckline that caused Sansa's gaze to linger on.

"Have you ever seen something so beautiful?"

"Hmm?" Sansa's eyes darted upwards, noticing that Margaery was looking at the sea but after a moment her eyes met Sansa's. "Oh, yes." Sansa answered quickly, hoping that the older girl wouldn't notice the fierce blush creeping onto her pale cheeks.

This newly found appreciation for Margaery wasn't unprecedented, it would be impossible for anyone to not admire Margery's features. She had taken in the beauty of other women, feeling envious or jealous at times but not left in complete and utter awe as she was in when in Margaery's company. It was the nicest thing just sitting here in her company.

Sansa let her eyes drift to the water and sighed quietly, her head bowing down and she let her hand press against her forehead.

"Sansa," Margaery whispered, her soft eyes looking in the auburn haired girls direction. "Is something troubling you?"

"It-It's nothing," Sansa replied softly as she raised her head but looking over to Margaery and seeing her encouraging smile she she felt compelled to tell the truth.

"When I first arrived in Kingslanding I would go for a long walk each night" Sansa said. "I would watch the moon light the water, look out at the ship. sometimes I would look up at the stars and…"

"And?" Margaery asked, urging her to continue.

"Before my sister Arya left, and my father-"Sansa took a beep breath before exhaling slowly, "It sounds so silly but I would just stare up at the stars and think of my family." She continued, "I would wonder if my sister is somewhere safe and warm, or if my brothers are all together looking after my mother."

"I miss them so terribly." Sansa admitted sadly.

For several moments the older girl remained quiet but reached over, taking Sansa's hand in her own, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "I know they are thinking of you," She spoke softly, a sweet smile reassuring Sansa. "It isn't silly at all."

Despite herself Sansa shivered but It wasn't only Sansa who had realized this. "Sansa, you are freezing." She exclaimed and without a moment of hesitation the brunette grasped both of Sansa's hands, pulling them over her lap and bringing them between her own.

The gesture startled Sansa and she could feel her heart racing. "I-You don't have to…" Sansa began but trailed off as Margaery's heat enveloped her, quickly lighting a fire from her fingertips, up her arms and making it's way throughout her body.

"How can you be so warm?" Sansa instead asked now, watching as Margaery raised her eyes from their linked hands, a coy smirk.

"A higher mystery." Margaery answered, her smile playful as she brushed a thumb over Sansa's soft skin.

Sansa had become so accustomed to the North that she was surprised she could even find a chill, her soul had been practically made of ice and snow but at this moment Sansa's mind was clouded by the warmth of Margaery's hands on hers, soft and comforting.

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so safe.


End file.
